The day my brother died....

The day my brother died was by far one of the darkest days I've ever experienced. Words simply cannot describe the gut wrenching emotional pain I felt. It's the kind of pain that hits not only your heart but your soul, your entire being.

I remember the exact moment and the exact location when I got the call, and to this day I still can't drive past it without getting a lump in my throat. 

It's the kind of phone call no one on earth should ever get. I was driving on Moffett Road, and I can remember screaming and I swerved in front of a semi truck into a parking lot. Somehow by a miracle I made it to that parking lot without being in an accident. Your brain simply cannot process things or properly function at that moment. It's like your whole entire body is consumed by the pain. I never knew what a broken heart was until this day. 

I remember flinging off my seat belt, and swinging the door open. I immediately felt my knees hit the asphalt of that parking lot. I cried out to  God. I begged him to not take my brother, I begged him to let him stay with us here on Earth. I remember reaching across the edge of the asphalt and just grabbing my fingers into the grass as I screamed.  I was shaking uncontrollably, I began to throw up. I could literally feel my heart breaking, and I don’t know that it will ever be the same again. 

Tears, filled  my eyes as I type this, because I'm reliving that moment.........

I don't know how long I was there crying, screaming, praying..... 

I remember hearing a soft voice saying "ma'am are you okay?" 

I couldn't speak, I couldn't breath, and I couldn't move. It was like I was paralyzed. 

All I could do was hand the woman my phone, and when she looked in my phone somehow she knew exactly who she needed to call.

Not long after that she got into my Tahoe,and moved it.

I was so glad to hear my husbands voice when he got there to pick me up.

It felt like I was there for a hundred years, living that moment in slow motion.

Suicide isn't a selfish act. It's an act carried out by someone who has been consumed by an illness. An illness that often goes unnoticed until its too late. Suicide is no different than any other death. Nobody wakes up and says they want to die in a car accident, nobody wakes up and says they want to die of cancer. I know my brother did not wake up that day and think he would die that day. I think it started off like any other normal work day. He got up, got ready and drove to work and started his normal work routine just like any other day. Not once did I ever think something was off with him, not for a single second. He was always joking, he was always making everyone around him laugh.

Taking his burial clothes to the funeral home.

In the car, on the way to my little hometown it seemed like the longest trip I had ever been on, but it wasn't. It dragged on and on and on. It was the longest four hours of my life. In the car on the way there, I told my husband I was going to fulfill Jason's lifelong dream and go to Whitefish, Montana for him. He said ''whatever you want, we will do''. He has held me at my weakest, loved me at my darkest and supported me every single step of the way.

As a little sister I always imagined growing old with my two older brothers, I never imagined one of us would be gone at such a young age. I never imagined I would be the one to choose his casket, I never dreamed I would be the one to decided the clothes he wore for his burial. NEVER.

I cried so much that my eyelids were swollen, I didn't even know that was possible.

These past several weeks and months have been purely exhausting for me. I've worked double shifts without a break. I've worked overtime. I've picked up extra shifts. I've worked on my off days. I've sacrifieced time with my husband, and our children. All so that I can keep my promise to him, and now we are less than 100 days away from beginning our trip and keeping my promise. This trip is mostly about keeping that promise, but I also feel that it will provide me with a small amout of closure. I know he will be with us every step of the way.

I'll see you in Montana Jason. . . .